The Boy with the Golden Hair
by TheMarauderLife
Summary: Set in Hermione's sixth year. What happens if Harry doesn't find and comfort Hermione when she's upset? What if someone else finds her instead- someone with dark secrets and a dangerous past. And what if that one occurrence changes the rest of their lives, and their destiny, forever. Who knew just how much forbidden love can really mess up a story? Dramione.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n** The story starts in Harry Potter and the Half-blood prince, when Ron is off with Lavender and Hermione is alone. The scene is based on the movie scene, but this time Harry doesn't come after Hermione, and Ron and Lavender have found somewhere else to make out. The story will mostly follow the original story line, but with changes.

I plan on following the books the best I can, but with some occasional input from the movies, as you see in this first chapter. However, much of the story will probably change. Please leave your opinions and constructive criticism's!:) Thanks for reading, and remember:

" _It is our choices that show what we really are, far more than our abilities_."

-Albus Dumbledore

Hermione squeezed her eyes tightly together, trying fiercely to wash away the image that was now engraved in her mind. Ron and Lavender. Lavender and Ron. Kissing, cuddling, holding one another. It pained her to think about it. Yes, she had never proclaimed her love for that idiot of a boy, or showed that she liked him, or even given him a sign, (not that he'd notice it, oblivious as he was), but she'd always thought, always assumed… maybe she was stupid to think like that. Maybe there never had been a future for her and Ron. But that look he'd had in his eye when she'd appeared on the steps at the Yule ball, and how jealous he'd acted that night, so long ago… she'd thought that things had changed since then, but obviously not. She wrapped herself in a ball and burrowed her head into her arms, letting the tears fall, and the sobs rack her body. No, she couldn't do this to herself; she couldn't dwell on the past. Ron was with Lavender now, they were happy. And she was alone. Desperately alone.

Her quiet whimpers continued, echoing through the silence of the small tower in which she sat. She came here sometimes when she was sad, or when she had a puzzle she just couldn't solve, but the room no longer reminded her of the tranquility she'd felt when she first found it in her second year. No, now it only reminded her of the ghosts that had haunted her past. Of every memory that had torn a little away from her heart: being called a 'mudblood' again and again and seeing the hateful looks thrown at her by the slytherin's; seeing the pain in Harry's eyes nearly every day, and seeing Ron's too when his Father was in danger. She was reminded of Sirius and his charming smile, which had never ceased to calm her nerves, of the thousands of tears that had been shed by herself, and her friends. Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Neville, Fred, George, Remus. There was too much heartbreak in the world and she always seemed to be the girl that had to sit and watch everyone go through it. And now Voldemort was back, and they were all in danger. And Hermione wasn't sure what she could do to help.

Suddenly, the sound of a rock scattering across the stone floor echoed around the tower,interrupting the dark torrent of thoughts in her head. Hermione's heart jumped into her throat. Usually, with her strong mind and good sense, she would have heard the intruder a long time before, but her guard had been down, and her sobs had covered up the sound of their footsteps. Slowly, she lifted her head.

There he stood. A flash of blonde hair, glowing blue eyes. He was standing close to the wall, his eyes guarded with uncertainty, his body basked in shadow. She couldn't read his expression, and bewilderment rose up inside of her, tinged with fear. There was a pause as a heavy silence weighed in the air. Until, finally, she spoke, her voice still choked. "Draco?" She whispered. She sounded quiet and unsure even to her own ears. She didn't know how to act around him. He had, after all, been the one who had tormented her over the years, who had led to her crying herself to sleep, feeling dirty and disgusting. Feeling like she didn't belong. And she knew something was going on with him, that he was up to something dangerous.

He hesitated, before stepping out of the shadows. He wore dark jeans and a dark jacket, and contrary to the powerful clothing, he looked… broken. For a moment, they just started at each other. "What… what are you doing here?" Asked Hermione finally, her eyebrows creased together in a frown.

"I…" He seemed at a loss for words, and looked as confused as she felt. "I heard you crying." He answered simply, avoiding looking her in the eye.

"Oh." There was another pause as she looked up at him, trying to understand the boy that had been such a mystery to her all these years.

"Why were you- crying that is?" He asked, still avoiding her gaze. He looked uncomfortable, and she felt sympathetic towards him, despite everything.

"Do you want to sit down?" She asked, her heart trembling in her chest as she spoke the words; she'd never spoken more than a sentence or two to Malfoy, let alone invited him to sit with her. She prepared herself for the insult that was sure to follow; Draco Malfoy didn't sit with mudbloods like her. But to her surprise, relief filled his face and he smiled.

"Yeah sure. Thanks." He replied, settling himself next to her. He left a small space so as not to seem overbearing and leant against the cold wall behind him. There was a pause whilst he waited patiently for her to speak.

"Well, to answer your question- I, I was crying because…" She faltered.

"You don't have to talk about it." He reassured, leaning forward. "Not if you don't want to." His voice was softer than she had ever heard it, and surprise and warmth filled her chest as he spoke. Who knew Malfoy could be so… kind?

"It's not that, it's just embarrassing," She admitted, flashing him an abashed smile. "It's… Ron."

"Ah. I see." Something seemed to harden in Malfoy's eyes, and it felt like he had shut himself off from her somehow- but she was reading to much into it, she decided.

"Your turn." Hermione continued, turning towards him. "Why are you here? ... Apart from hearing me crying, like you said." She paused to look at him quizzically, as though he was a complicated maths problem she couldn't solve. "There's got to be a reason you're roaming the castle this late, you can't just be looking for despairing girls." The last bit was spoken with a sprinkle of laughter in her voice and he smiled, running a hand through his disheveled blonde hair.

"Ah yes, well there's always that. You know, I see why they call you a bright witch. You don't miss anything, do you?" He marveled and she started. Had Draco Malfoy just complimented her?

"I, well…" She stuttered, until realization dawned upon her and her eyes narrowed. "You're avoiding the issue." It wasn't a question, but a statement, and his face broke into a grin.

"See what I mean? You should be a detective." She folded her arms stubbornly and raised her eyebrows, forcing him to hold up his hands in surrender and laugh. It was a nice sound, she noted. Gentle and boyish and warm. "Okay, okay, if you must know, I guess I was looking for someone to talk to- subconsciously that is. I didn't even realize what I was doing until I saw you here."

"Oh." Hermione paused for a moment as she digested the information, swallowing. Finally, she looked up at Draco, surveying him intensely with closely narrowed eyes. When she spoke, her voice was slow and deliberate. "But when you saw me… why didn't you leave? I'm a-" She took a deep breath, preparing herself to say the word that would change everything. His reaction would show wether he really was the boy she'd known him to be all these years. And she knew she desperately didn't want that to be the case. "I'm a mudblood to you." Draco winced, and if she could describe the way he looked in that moment with just one word, she would have said tired. Just incredibly, abundantly tired.

"I'm trying not to think like that Hermione. Not anymore." His voice was low and serious, and he looked pained. But his words just confused her more.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you see me before? Didn't you see how I was? I was… evil, I was a bully. That's not how I want to be all my life. God, I wish I could take back these years- go back to being a kid. I was just an innocent little kid." She then realised that he had left her there in the tower, and she could see in his eyes that he'd drifted into another time, long ago. A time where there was no pain. And then, as quickly as he'd gone, he returned. His head snapped back and his eyes bored into hers with such an intensity, she swore she could feel them burning her soul. "I don't want to be dark Hermione; I didn't ask for this- I didn't ask for any of this. I want to be good, like you, I don't want to belong to this war. I just want to be innocent again." Tears had started to form in his big blue eyes, and her heart ached for him. She wanted to run her hand through his hair and whisper to him that everything was going to be alright, but the truth was that she wasn't sure it would. Eventually, he trailed off, muttering something about his parents. He shook his head, unable to put his thoughts into words. Once again, there was a long pause whilst Hermione waited for him to speak. She was lost for words herself, caught up in his pain. A few minutes passed, until he eventually spoke. Sowly, he turned to look at her and a harsh, sarcastic laugh escaped his lips. His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm messed up, aren't I Granger?" Not bothering to wait for her to reply, he turned his head away. His obvious pain forced her to speak, and she did so urgently, in a hushed tone.

"No Draco. You're not. You can't let the mistakes you or your parents have made define you. I can see you're better than that." She placed her hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look into her eyes. She was shocked to see the severity of the pain scorching his, and the desperation that lurked there, sparkling in the form of tears.

"You don't know, you don't know what they want me to do." He said, his voice cracking. For a moment she was at a loss for words, and she could see he was too- and then he fell apart in her arms, sobbing into her as she held him tighter than she'd ever held anyone before.

"Whatever it is Draco, we'll get through it. I promise, we'll get through it." She soothed, determination lining the words, as realization hit her. Draco Malfoy needed her, and she was going to help him in every way she could.

Eventually, he'd calmed down, and the tower was silent apart from their quiet breaths. Hermione still held him in her arms and she closed her eyes, just listening to the sound their breaths made, mingled together. After a long while, she spoke, her voice calm and serious.

"What do they want you to do, Draco?"

He shifted in her hold and sat up, his eyes searching hers. They were laced with remorse, but she could see the relief there- the relief of sharing his burden with another being. "They want me to kill Dumbledore." He admitted.

"They... they what?!" Cried Hermione, her eyes wide with horror. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. If I don't, they might kill my family, and they'll definitely kill me. But how am I meant to take a life?"

"Theres no question about that Draco, you just can't do it." She bit her lip as she thought hard, already trying to think of a plan. "But we've got to figure out a way to make it look like an accident, or a way for you to escape. I suppose we could..." She trailed off as she saw the small smile traced into his face. "What?" She asked, frowning in confusion.

"You said 'we'." He replied, his expression almost childlike with happiness. But he wasn't just happy and surprised that she was helping him. He was in awe of her. He was in awe of the way she could have one conversation with someone who'd treated her so badly, and be so completely loyal to their cause; he was in awe of how incredibly kind she was, how intelligent, how trusting. And he wondered at himself. How could he ever have treated this girl with such malice and hatred? How could he have even insulted someone so... so good? Of course, Malfoy didn't say all this. He still had his dignity and his brooding image to maintain. He'd let that image slip the most it ever had tonight, but it still remained. He wasn't completely changed in every way.

Hermione smiled softly, holding his cold hand with her gentle, warm one. "We're in this together now, Draco. You don't need to struggle on your own any more."

Those words meant more than he could ever explain. "Thank you." He whispered. And then, impulsively, he reached up to brush a bushy curl away from her face. He'd wanted to do that for so long, he realised. She took in a sharp intake if breath, and then rested her cheek in his hand. They were close now, and she could feel his warm breath tickling her lips. They spoke no words, for there were no words to describe the way they were both feeling- how their hearts beat fast in their chest, and their skin felt so incredibly sensitive to eachothers touch. He leant closer to her, so there was only a centimetre between their lips, now. "Draco." She whispered, closing her eyes, getting lost in the moment. But then, suddenly, she remembered where she was and how incredibly complicated this would make things. Her eyes opened, taking in every piece of him- his beautiful eyes, his angel-like hair- with regret. As gently as she could, she pulled his hand from her cheek. "I can't Draco." She whispered, and he nodded curtly, standing up.

"I understand." He turned to leave.

"Wait, Draco." He span back around, and she looked at his face, now void of emotion. "We... we need to meet soon- we need to plan." He nodded once again, his empty eyes surveying her beautiful eyes and ruffled hair with no hint of pain, although she knew it was there.

"Meet me tomorrow, at the entrance to the library." She was hurt by his abruptness, he could see that, and it pained him to see what he was doing to her. But, once again, he turned to leave. It was only at the door that he hesitated. Sighing, he turned to face her once more. "Look Granger. I just want to apologise for how I've treated you all these years. I regret it. A lot." She nodded, her eyes full of that wise understanding.

"I know you do Draco, I know. I'll see you tomorrow." He paused once more, and then left, his quiet footsteps disappearing into the depths if the castle. Hermione closed her eyes, it had been a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** : Here's the next chapter. I have a feeling this stories going to be a bit darker the I'm used to, and so it's a bit of an experiment and a side project. But I hope you will stick with it and enjoy reading. Hermione's always been one of my favourite characters, so I thought I'd try something a little different, and play with her darker side, (since we all have one). Please review:)

\- Amy x

Hermione awoke earlier than usual, her hair its usual bushy mess. The other girls in her dorm had strung christmas lights around in anticipation for the big day, but Hermione wasn't very excited. Christmas day was nice and everything, and it wasn't that she didn't enjoy it, but it just didn't have quite the same effect after all these years.

When she was younger, it was her favourite time of year- she'd be full of constant energy, and her room would always be decorated with tinsel and the miniature christmas tree her mum had bought her a few years previously; but that same childlike wonder was gone. She felt like she'd grown up a lot in the last year- she was more serious, more uptight. She noticed the little things more- the way McGonogalls lips were constantly tight with worry, the way Harry would sometimes wonder off into his memories, and get that dark look in his bright green eyes. It seemed, as the threat of Voldemort got more and more real, she began to see more and more of the suffering around her. It followed her wherever she went.

She went about the day with Harry and Ron, barely talking. Ron kept throwing awkward glances in her direction, and Harry's face was full of sympathy- they both knew she'd been upset last night. They just didn't realise that now she felt comforted, and it was all thanks to their enemy. Draco.

She found her mind wandering to him, and it wasnt the first time. She thought about how differently he'd acted with her; he was in it so deep, and she knew they had to find a way for him to escape. Yes, he was a death eater- but he was a young boy too. Lost, scared, and in need of help. He hadn't done anything wrong yet, so there was still hope. She thought about their meeting tonight, trying to ignore the way everything erupted inside of her at the thought of spending time with him, being alone with him. He would be there at 10 o'clock, outside the library, when the school was deserted. She knew it was wrong, but she'd broken rules before, and come to realise that somethings were more important than getting in trouble. The fact that she'd come to grips with that fact, that she could accept that she had it in her to go against authority, really did show how much she'd changed.

That night, at the evening meal, she sat with Harry, Ron and Ginny. She was probably the only one to realise the way Harry kept glancing at the pretty redhead: Ginny wouldn't dare believe it; Rom was too caught up in himself, and even Harry himself was probably oblivious to the fact he was looking at her, subconsciously. Hermione tried to hide a smile. They'd been sat in silence for quite sometime, but it wasn't very noticeable with the roar of the other students as they chattered, laughed and joked. She looked over at the Slytherin table, but she couldn't see the boy who had been constantly on her mind. She sighed- 10 o' clock couldn't come quick enough.

By ten to, the common room was nearly empty, since most of the students were either chatting in their rooms or sleeping. The only ones that were downstairs were a couple of exhausted students scribbling manically to finish the essay's they'd forgotten were in for the next day. Hermione always made sure hers were finished in advance; she couldn't bear to feel the kind of panic those kids were- and she felt bad for them.

Part of her wanted to stay here and help them out, but she'd already let Ron and Harry copy one essay today, and she needed to see Draco. So, at five minutes to ten, she silently left the common room, hoping nobody noticed.

She had thought about using Harry's cloak, but she knew asking him fir it would just cause suspicion, and they would find out who she was with. They still could, if Harry happened to glance at his map, but she prayed that he wouldn't.

When she got to the library entrance, it looked deserted, and her heart fell. Maybe this had just been Malfoy's plan all along- pretend to open up to her and then stand her up. But it just wasn't plausible. He wouldn't have. She glanced around her, and her fears began to creep along her skin, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. She turned, looking around the corridor, her hands playing with her robes nervously, praying he'd show. She stopped. Maybe she'd been wrong after all.

But, just as she thought that, a shadow stepped out behind the statue closest to her- a towering stone knight. In the dimly lit hall, she hoped he couldn't see her smile- or the relief in it.

"You like doubting me, don't you." He stated quietly, a small smirk on his pale face. It seemed he had seen her relieved expression. His eyes glimmered in the dark, and her heart beat faster, her pulse racing as adrenaline flooded her body. She'd never felt like this before. Not with Viktor, or with Ron. Only Draco.

"And you like hiding in the shadow." She replied, her voice a pitch higher than usual. Her eyes took in every bit if him- his dark cloak, his perfect skin, his golden hair.

"Indeed I do, Miss Granger." He was grinning now, as he stepped towards her. The tears that had been cried the night before were long forgotten; now he was strong, confident, powerful. Though she knew, deep down, that broken boy was still in there, somewhere. He was so close now, and she imagined what they must look like. Two silhouettes, stood outside the doors of the library, their shadows mingled together on the stone wall. Her fingers shook as he spoke once again, breaking through the silence, his voice a rough whisper.

"I only come out of the shadows for you." He lifted his hand, incredibly slowly, as if to touch her hair, as he had done the night before. Only, this time, she would let him. She closed her eyes, waiting for his touch, but... there was nothing. Confused, she opened her eyes to see his head turned back along the corridor, a frown marring his perfect face.

"Draco?" She whispered, suddenly frightened. He put a finger to her lips, and took her arm, pulling her gently to the statue where he had hidden. He pressed his lips to her ear.

"I heard something." He whispered, leaving tingles where his lips brushed her skin. She didn't know how he had, since she had heard nothing, but then she remembered how loud her heartbeat had seemed to her ears, and how caught up she was in... him. He made her oblivious to anything around her.

She strained to hear any sound, but there was only deep, penetrating silence... And then she heard it. In the distance, footsteps were coming their way- multiple footsteps. The click of the heels cracked through the air, and Hermione's hand slid towards the wand in her pocket. She curled her fingers around it, and clasped it tightly, her breath coming in quiet gasps that seemed incredibly loud to her ears. Draco held her tightly, and she clutched his robe with her left hand, holding him close and breathing in his scent. The footsteps were close now- only a corridor or so away- and her heart rate spiked. There was a painstaking, terrible moment of silence... and then they were fading, disappearing, into the maze of hallways and corridors. Draco sighed in relief against her ear, his body relaxing, but still neither of them moved. They stayed there for a few more minutes, her pressed against the wall, with him leaning over her, obscuring her from view, until the footsteps finally drifted away.

"Who was that?" Hermione asked breathlessly. She tried hopelessly to keep the fear out of her voice.

"I'm not sure. I doubt it was Death Eaters. I would have known if there were plans to infiltrate the castle. It was either prefects, or teachers. No one more dangerous." His voice was gentle, soothing, and she relaxed, her fear disappearing.

"Let's go." He said, and he grabbed her hand, tugging her gently into the abandoned library. Once inside, he let go of her and trailed his fingers along the shelves and shelves of books, his expression serious, his eyes flicking left and right so quickly, it made her dizzy to watch. She struggled to keep up with his long strides as he searched, but, eventually she caught up to him when he stopped at the end if a row, looking lost and dejected. He slammed his hands against the books in frustration, making her jump, and she hesitated before approaching him and gently guiding him away. They sat down, together, on two of the plush purple armchairs scattered around the room, and she held his hand, her small soft palms covering his. He looked away, his eyes pained.

"Draco." She whispered, softly. But, he continued to avoid her gaze " _Draco_. Talk to me." She insisted, turning his head towards her. She could see part of the despair starting to seep into his eyes, and she knew he needed hope. "Don't give up yet, Draco. Tell me what we're looking for." He ran his fingers through his hair.

"A... A spell. A spell that makes someone seem dead, when they're not."

"That's it!" She exclaimed, standing up. "That's perfect! If we can just-"

"Thats the problem." He replied, sighing. "It sounds good in theory, but I don't even know if it exits. It was just a rumour I heard my parents whispering about last year. Some story about a witch who had faked her own death..."

"Then we've got to believe it." She stated, firmly. "Its the only hope we've got." She held out her hand, and he looked up at her, hesitating. Then he cracked a smile.

"And you're the only hope I've got."

Together, they spent hours searching through stacks and stacks of books- ancient, thick novels, some with thousands if pages. It was hard going, but, eventually, they found something. The book was in the restricted section, in the far corner if the library. A single, small window let in the moonlight, but underneath it, they stood in darkness. The book was a thick, black thing with golden spirals that danced around the pages. It was covered in dust, and when Hermione blew it, Draco got a face full of the stuff. He coughed, hard, and she grimaced.

"Sorry." She muttered, turning the page. He laughed.

"It's fine, just watch those lips of yours, Granger." She grinned, thumbing through the pages. Suddenly, she stopped, her eyes wide. "Lumos." She whispered.

"What is it?" He asked, eagerly.

"Its not much," she admitted, excitement tinging her voice. "But it's something."

"Let me see." He whispered, and she passed the book to him. He scanned the page under her wand light and his eyes lit up, too. "The 'Passida Deceita' spell, better known as the 'spell of fake death', is rarely used, and the incantation of Passida Deceita is known by few wizards. However the main problem with the curse is that nobody really knows the wand manoeuvre required, and so the spell was classified as illegal by the Ministry of Magic in 1942." He'd finished, so she flicked her wand, and it became darker.

"See, it does exist!" She paused. 'Passido Deceita.' I've never heard anything like it." She whispered. He nodded in agreement, but worry had seeped into his eyes.

"Me either. But, even if we can use it, we don't know the wand movement required. And the other Death Eaters would hear that I didn't say the Killing Curse, and one of them would say it anyway." He stated plainly. Hermione frowned, deep in thought for a moment. Then an idea sparked in her eye, an idea so... obvious, that she grinned.

"Draco, you could use wandless magic!" She exclaimed. His eyes widened.

"What? But that's... Wandless Magic is only used by the worlds greatest wizards- Dumbledore, Grindelwald. I don't think... even The Dark Lord hasn't attempted..."

"You could do it, I know you could. Its the only way." She pleaded, but he turned away.

"No Hermione, I can't. I'm... Im weaker than you think."

"Draco. You are not weak. You're an amazing wizard, and you fight for what's right. That says a lot about a person."

"But, I'm..." He took a deep breath, and then looked deep into her eyes. His sparkled in the moonlight, and her heart started to beat faster as she stared into their electrifying depths. They wern't like the sea, or the sky, or anything calm- they were like ice, or lightning, or something so sharp and powerful it hurt to look at, and she found her heart thudding hard in her chest.

"I'm... Not Ron, I'm not Harry... Im just Draco."

"That's enough for me." She whispered, and, for the first time that night, his face split into a real snile. It was inly small, but it was a happy smile, and it sent shivers up her spine as her pounding heartbeat echoed in her chest.

There was a pause, and then, this time, she was the one to close the space between them, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. He cupped her face gently, and her breath hitched in her throat as his soft hands sent tingles across her skin. Then, suddenly they were kissing, and it was soft and sweet and passionate and powerful, and she was the match and he was the fuel- and together they burned. Her heart had never beat so loud, the butterflies in her stomach had never erupted so much; she'd never felt so _good_ , so complete. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and she realised that all this time, after everything that had happened- this was what she was waiting for. For him. She didn't want it to end as his hand tangled in her hair, making her mind clear of every worry, of every thought that had been tumbling round and round in the past twenty four hours. Apart from one word, one boy.

 _Draco_.


End file.
